


The Search For Ghosts

by MarigoldWatson



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Angst, Crime Drama, Crime Lords, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Ghosts, Korean Characters, Possible Relationships - Freeform, based off of the MADE trailer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 18:00:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5675329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarigoldWatson/pseuds/MarigoldWatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An Idea I came up with after watching Big Bang's MADE trailer one too many times. </p><p>3 years is a long time to hold onto a grudge, but for Dectective Isabela Stark, 2 years isn't long enough. She'll do anything to find the legendary Ghosts even if it means being reassigned to Korea. But what happens when lines between right and wrong blur together and she no longer remembers what side she's on?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chance

**Author's Note:**

> So as I said in the summary this really is based off of the 15 minute trailer that plays throughout Big Bang's MADE tour. I'm completely in love with it. So I'm going off of what I saw in it and the feel of it being like a Robert Rodriguez or Quentin Tarantino film. Like From Dust 'Til Dawn, Reservior Dogs, and Pulp Fiction. So be ready for some craziness and I hope you all enjoy!

Jiyong couldn’t believe the mess it had all turned into. It was supposed to be a simple bank run. Go in, grab the shit, and get out. The duffle bags of cash were just meant to be a buffer; something for the cops to worry about before they realized the other things that were missing. 

Kwang-Sik had informed them inside the vault held a quarter million in diamonds. That he needed them and whatever Kwang-Sik wanted, it was Jiyong and his group of men’s job to get it. 

Jiyong had learned a long time ago when you aren’t smart. When you don’t plan for every conceivable outcome, everything gets fucked up. It’s how chaos happens. It was his job, as the leader of The Ghosts, to calculate these things. But even with the best calculations, shit always manages to turn up. 

Jiyong had strolled in first. TOP, his second in command, following just shy of his entrance. He wasted no time dispatching the armed guard at the door. Knocking him so hard with the butt of his shotgun that blood sprayed and the old man fell to a crumbled bleeding mess to the floor. Jiyong didn’t waste time to make sure TOP grabbed the man’s sidearm. Jiyong knew TOP would get it. 

Lifting up his Mk. 44 he let his finger slide over the trigger and eased enough pressure to let a few bullets spray into the marble ceiling. 

“Everybody listen up! This is a stick up!”

Jiyong hated speaking in English. It was choppy at best. This was more Seungri’s department. The kid could speak up to five languages and not break a sweat. He made it look easy. Jiyong envied him for it.

If no one ever said anything, no one would know TOP and Seungri were brothers. Compared to his older sibling, Seungri held an undeniable charm. But shared in the contained fury that no one knew about until someone was foolish enough to unleash. In all the years Jiyong had known TOP, that fury was always on display. He lived within the chaos and flourished in the madness. There was never an off switch and that meant Jiyong always maintained a watchful eye on the older of the Choi’s. 

“Ladies and gentlemen. For the safety of yourselves and others we ask that you follow our simple instructions and no one will be hurt.”

Seungri’s voice filtered through the building. It sent out a soothing reassurance that Jiyong knew his lacked and was more than grateful to step aside and let the younger maknae take over. Jiyong moved in lazy circles as he took in the slavish bank. It was upscale. The kind of upscale establishment that Jiyong had always hated. Where only the elitist of the world with enough money could ever dream of coming. The thought alone made him feel considerably better about taking plenty of their money.

He watched as Daesung took out a zip tie and made quick work of tying the last guard. Daesung was gentle. Probably the most gentle of the group. At first glance, he didn’t seem to fit in with any of them and the same could be said about Taeyang. Gentle hearts got slaughtered in this business. Jiyong made it his silent mission to keep that from happening.   
A woman to his left let out a shriek. The kind that made others nervous and more liable to respond in making stupid choices. Jiyong followed the voice and, without shock, found the culprit of the panic. TOP was laughing and seizing up the young woman’s dress; his hands snaking up the fabric as she tried in vain to stop his persistent hands. 

If Jiyong didn’t stop this all of Seungri’s cool words would be wasted. TOP fed off of chaos at its purest form, but today, Jiyong didn’t feel like cleaning up anymore of his messes. 

“Ya, bingu, leave the poor girl alone. You got work to do.”

Jiyong watched as TOP’s back went rigid. He didn’t need to see the look in the other man’s eyes to know the rage that was blazing under the surface. The two of them shared a love for one another that no one could touch, but it didn’t stop them from coming to bloody blows every once in a while. Jiyong hoped this wouldn’t turn into one of them. TOP hated that nickname, but it was the safest one to use in public. 

He waited until TOP stood straight, the sound of his baritone voice sending words down to the crumbling female shape below him. Jiyong had no idea what he said before he walked away from her, but the look of sheer terror in her eyes was enough for him to guess it wasn’t good. 

Off to the side he spotted Taeyang kneeled down next to a mother and her child. A small girl who was no doubt frightened out of her mind. He was doing a magic trick for her; producing a wildflower he had picked a few miles down when they’d been coming up with a plan before entering the bank. When he produced the bright yellow flower with a flourish, Jiyong smiled along with the little girl as she gingerly took it from his large hand.

Soft hearts get burned, his conscious reminded him. But without those moments in this life, Jiyong would find himself going crazy. 

He snapped his fingers and spoke swiftly for Seungri to ask for the manager. It didn’t take much for the employees to point to a middle-aged man with a god awful comb over. He would have been better buying a tope. 

Jiyong wasted no time moving over to him. He slung the strap of his Mk. 44 around his shoulders before he slide a tight arm around the man’s shoulder. He was shaking uncontrollably and Jiyong wouldn’t have been surprised if he pissed himself. 

“How about you and I take a walk, hm?” 

Jiyong let it sound like a question, like the man had some kind of choice. They both knew he didn’t. His feet moved like they were weighed down with cement. Jiyong found himself having to physically pull the man towards the safe. It probably didn’t help every time TOP kicked under the man’s feet when he walked. Every jolt guiding the man closer to a breakdown. 

TOP kept his shotgun trained on him as Jiyong moved aside. Letting the man stand completely alone in front of the steel vault. 

“Now, we both know you can open this. I suggest you get to it before my associate here gets enthusiastic with the trigger.”

That was all the man needed to start working on unlocking the vault. The man moved forward and fumbled his way through unlocking the damn thing. It took him almost two minutes. Jiyong couldn’t help glancing at his watch while they waited. 

Seven minutes left. They were quickly losing time and to make it up meant things had to get messy. Jiyong didn’t do messy. 

“Hurry it up, old man,” TOP’s words spit out hot like venom. 

He placed the muzzle of the gun behind his head and instantaneously the man crumbled into hysterics.

“Aish, I swear…”

Jiyong motioned for TOP to move away from him before pushing the guy out of the way. 

“Is it unlocked? Yay, is the vault unlocked?!” he ordered.

The man quickly answered with a nod as he covered his head with his hands. Asshole. That wouldn’t protect him if TOP decided to actually shoot. It would just be more of a mess when they took the crime scene photos later. 

With another finger click and a bird call Daesung rushed over producing two large duffle bags and handing them over. TOP already moved forward and opened up the vault door.   
The last thing Jiyong saw was his feet entering through the large door and disappeared. 

“Tell Taeyang to go get the car ready.”

Jiyong didn’t stay to see if he acknowledged the order or not. He didn’t have too. The sound of Daesung’s retreating footsteps was the only answer he needed. 

When he entered TOP had already begun to throw stacks of hundreds into his duffle. The bingu not even caring to keep it straight or in order; just tossed it in or over his shoulder. Sometimes it didn’t even make the bag. Jiyong just shook his head and walked to where the real money was: safe deposit 264. 

He made quick work picking the lock on the box and decided, in the interest of time, to throw the whole damn thing inside. He started aligning money on top to hide it. Enough money that the zipper was close to not budging when he tried to close it.

“You ready to go?”

“Been waiting on you,” TOP replied. 

Jiyong smiled at that. He wouldn’t leave without him or unless Jiyong told him too. Just like he was now. Motioning towards the door he replied, “Just go. I’m right behind you.”

TOP gave him a brief nod in reply and with one hand holding the duffle and the other resting his shotgun on his shoulder, he moved out. This was going a lot better than he had thought it would. It had been a while since they-

It was as if lady luck heard his excitement and turned her back. He wasn’t even two steps away from exiting the vault when the sudden piercing sound of an alarm followed by the loud cracking of a shotgun blast bounded inside. He rushed out and was welcomed by screams and shouts of everyone inside. 

“These motherfuckers sounded the alarm!”

And there it was. TOP, and his explosive nature, revealed itself in all its glory. The manager was laying lifeless on the ground more than two feet away from him. Blood and other things splattered across the floor and the wall. TOP never did handle betrayal with any semblance of grace. 

“Jesus, hyung! Did you have to kill him?”

No bodies. There wasn’t supposed to be any bodies this time. The reason they were called The Ghosts was because there was never any evidence or bodies to find. In the last 7 months they were getting sloppy. The kind of sloppy Kwang-Sik didn’t like and found expendable. So when Jiyong rushed over and shoved TOP, he didn’t care about the fact the other man looked ready to murder him along with everyone left in the bank. The stupid idiot didn’t, no couldn’t, understand the shit he had just gotten himself into. 

“He pulled the alarm! What else was I supposed to do?”

“Uh, guys,” Daesung’s light voice interrupted. 

“WHAT!?” 

TOP and Jiyong’s voice both shouted back at him. 

But Daesung didn’t answer. Seungri just pointed outside the bank where the faint sounds of sirens were drawing closer to their location. 

“Fuuuck! Everybody move to the car. Now!” Jiyong ordered.

Forgetting their anger they both picked up the duffels and sprinted for the glass doors. All four of the slamming out into the bright Los Angeles streets. Taeyang was already outside in their GTO. Engine revving as he looked at them baffled by what had unfolded in a matter of seconds. 

“Pop the trunk!” TOP demanded as he smacked his hand across the length of the car.

Somewhere in the distance Jiyong heard Taeyang grumble about slapping TOP for slapping his baby. He would’ve laughed if he didn’t noticed the cop car that careened into view off a cross street. His heart sunk. It was only one squad car but just one was enough to follow them and give concise directions to their location. They couldn’t afford a bigger mess. 

Without thinking he pulled out Ivory, his white gold desert eagle, from his side holster and popped a few bullets off in their direction. The cop car skidded to a halt. The two occupants, a female and a male, made their way out and found protection behind the doors. Their guns trained on him and TOP and their getaway. 

“Drop the weapons and get down on the ground now!”

Jiyong was surprised at how such a feminine voice held so much authority. It was cool and demanded he listen; the same kind of effect his maknae held. 

“How about you drop your weapons.”

TOP came into view, a grenade in hand, top already missing, as he tossed it towards the car. Leave it to this crazy bingu to bring a fucking grenade with him. Crazy asshole loved blowing shit up. 

“Oh shit, Izzie get back it’s a grenade!” 

Both the cops moved to get away from the car. From the impending destruction that laid a few seconds ahead of them. But right as they moved Jiyong saw a clear shot arise from the side and he took it. The shot hit home in the officer’s calf and sent him slamming face first into the asphalt. His partner took notice too late as she turned, and before she could make a move to run back to get him, TOP’s grenade landed home. 

The explosion was a few seconds off. It lit up the sky like the Fourth of July. The cop car going up a few feet into the air before landing back in a heap of broken glass, plastic, and metal at their feet. 

Jiyong slammed the trunk and made his way to the back seat beside Seungri. TOP taking the passenger’s seat only to get slapped upside his head as soon as he sat down.

“Ya! What the hell was that for?”

“You slap my car I slap your dumbass face.”

“Guys! Finish it later!” Jiyong ordered. 

How could they both be so damn stupid? He wondered. 

Without needing anymore direction Taeyang flipped the car around and headed towards their mapped out exit plan just in case something like this happened. Jiyong always had plans for every possible outcome. It was what made him a leader. It was what he was good at. But when they passed by the ruins of the cop car and his eyes looked out and caught sight of the sobbing officer holding onto her dead partner, Jiyong knew he should have killed her too. 

Her blonde hair and skin were covered in dirt and grim. Blood leaking down her left shoulder; the culprit being a piece of imbedded metal that looked like it hurt like hell. Her arms were covered in splotches of second degree burns as she hauled her partner into her lap. Crying and screaming; both knowing without having to check he was dead.

When her eyes locked on with his, Jiyong knew that the amount of hate that filtered to hardened determination was a dangerous combination. He should have killed her the minute he saw it. That amount of hate gave someone the power to demolish empires if they wanted too. But he didn’t and somewhere deep down in his gut, he knew he was bound to regret it.


	2. Variables

Her lungs were erupting in fire with every breath she took. Her muscles screaming for her to let up on the assault, but Izzie paid no mind. Her eyes were locked onto the suspect in front of her and as she dashed through the market, jumping over tables, only one thought prevailed: _He’s not getting away this time._

The suspect in question was Yoshi Tokamota. A known affiliate with Kwang-Sik and his mysterious Ghosts. Originally an orphan from Japan, Kwang-Sik had adopted the boy after he murdered his father due to a lengthy gambling debt he couldn’t pay back. So they took every viable organ from Yoshi’s father and mother as reimbursement. Yoshi had only been three years old back then. His sad story almost would have made her second guess what she was going to do once she got a hold of him. But after seeing the evil shit he’d done since being taken in by Kwang-Sik, she couldn’t have cared less.

Izzie had been tracking this little shit down for months. She’d almost had him last spring but lost him due to something she just couldn’t get rid of.

Her _partner_. Well, her new partner.

Even now Izzie could hear him behind her. Shouting for her to stop; _slow down!_ But what did he know? All he ever did was slow her down and keep her from doing her job. It was her job to catch pieces of shit like this kid, wasn’t it?

She pushed herself harder as Yoshi barreled into a crowded street. People cursing at him as he shoved them aside; looking back to see if she’d gotten any closer. Izzie wasted no time following suit. Pushing pedestrian’s left and right as shoved her way through. She was greeted by her own rude comments:

**_Brutal American!_ **

**_Rude Pig!_ **

Izzie easily brushed them off. Nobody ever liked cops to begin with. The American thing, well, she couldn’t help. She was one of the few American police officers to ever transfer over to a Korean unit. Izzie was willing to admit she probably hadn’t been living with the best reputation.

Yoshi broke off from the crowd and made his way quickly down an alley. This was her chance. It was the perfect place to apprehend him and have nobody see what would take place after. But Izzie also realized it was the perfect place for him to lose her. She just couldn’t let that happen again.

Izzie brushed through the crowd and out into the open space of the alley in seconds. Pushing her body to move quicker as her eyes kept sight of Yoshi’s form. He looked back to look at her one more time, and it was his undoing. His foot connected with a bottle left next to a trashcan. Yoshi struggled to fix his misstep but it was all Izzie needed, just those few precious seconds, and she had him pressed face first into the asphalt.

Her forearm pressed tightly into his neck. Pushing his face into the small pieces of gravel until he yelled out obscenities from the pain. Izzie braced her knee into his back as her free hand dug around in the pocket of her Kevlar vest. Yoshi struggled to peer over his shoulder; watching and taking in as much as he could from his position on the ground. When Izzie found the small white powdered dime bags she quickly stuffed them deep into his back pockets.

“Ya! What are you doing?”

“Finding evidence.”

“More like planting it, you bitch! You won’t get away with that!” he screeched.

The beginnings of fear drowned out the confidence in his words. Izzie leaned down, her knee digging in deep, as she whispered back, “Willing to beat your life on it?”

For a split second, Yoshi’s struggling ceased. His entire body rigged beneath her as she moved to grab her handcuffs. She’d let her guard down and eased up the pressure. She wasn’t paying attention and when Yoshi swung a hard elbow out, knocking her in the jaw, Izzie found herself struggling to shake off the blow.

A wrestling match of wills started in that dirty back alley. Izzie fighting to shake off a blow that left her disoriented and to outmatch a kid who was as slippery as a snake. He launched another hard punch in her direction, leaving her barely enough time to block the blow with her forearm. She blocked another blow as her hand fought to loosen the Velcro on her baton. She took a hard kick to the side that left her winded just as the Velcro released. With a flick of the wrist the clicking sound of the baton extending bounced around the dark grey walls. Yoshi had a split second to react; his eyes widening in realization only to turn black with dread as she lashed out connecting a blow to his knee.

The pop that followed and the reverberating crunch of bone shattering echoed inside their small arena. Just as Yoshi collapsed to the floor, howling in pain as he clutched onto his knee, the sound of heavy footsteps jogging in their direction caused Izzie to tense.

“Jesus Christ, Izzie what are you doing?”

Izzie forced herself to take in a deep breath to calm herself. She didn’t have time to deal with Patrick’s shit. Turning to look at the partner that had been forced on her, she made sure her face was void of any emotion except indifference.

“I was apprehending the suspect. He turned violent so I had to use force.”

“She’s lying!” Yoshi cried out. Still clutching his shattered knee. “I didn’t do anything to her!”

“She’s bleeding,” Patrick commented. Motioning with his finger to Izzie’s busted lip. “I don’t think she did that to herself, do you?” Patrick asked, aiming the question to the crying heap on the floor.

“I swear I was only trying to defend myself!”

“Izzie-“

“What did I tell you about calling me that?” She snapped.

Adam put his hands up, the way you would try and soothe a rabid dog. Izzie could feel the sneer curl her lips before Patrick noticed; turning her back to him. Her attention landing back on the reason her lip was busted and her face swelling up like a grape fruit.

“Stark,” Patrick started calmly behind her. “Don’t do anything you could regret later.”

Deep down somewhere, Izzie knew Patrick was just trying to be a good partner. It wasn’t his fault he had been stuck with someone who didn’t want him. None of that mattered to her, however. All that mattered to her was the fact he was standing in the way of getting the information she’d been craving. She wasn’t going to let an opportunity like this just slip from her fingers.

Her fingers tightened on the handle of her baton. Her voice cold as her features hardened to stone as she kept her gaze fixed on Yoshi.

“Walk away, Patrick.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Walk away. Before this gets messy. For both of us.”

Yoshi’s eyes widened in terror as he looked from her to her partner behind her. His hand still clutching tightly to the broken limb.

“No man! Don’t leave me here with her! Please.”

Izzie didn’t have to look behind her to feel the tension resonating at her back. Patrick was a good cop. An honest to god savior for the people. Izzie knew asking him to abandon someone, even this lowlife, was asking a lot. Maybe too much. Eventually she knew, one day, Patrick would crack. Izzie just prayed that day wasn’t today.

It was strange the amount of relief she felt when his presence disappeared from her back. His every footstep making quick work to distance himself away from whatever he knew she was going to do.

“Please! Hey, don’t leave me! Please!”

Yoshi’s cries for help went unanswered as Izzie moved around him. Checking the side doors against the alleyway until she found one that was left open. Finding herself a safe place to drag Yoshi inside. As she went to work on interrogating him a small voice reminded her that sometimes you had to be the devil to beat him at his own game.

* * *

 

“Stark! Peterson! My office. Now!”

They hadn’t even stumbled inside the precinct for five minutes before Chief Chan called for them. It was a new record to be sure. One Izzie would have been oddly proud of if it hadn’t been for the look on her face.

As they walked in single file through the maze of desks overrun with papers, Izzie noticed all eyes were on them. A few officers would turn away from her; glancing hastily back down at reports but their pens never moving. While others met her glare with their own.

She was the most hated transfer in the precinct. Izzie didn’t care. This wasn’t a popularity contest and she wasn’t here for them to like her.  

When they both passed through the threshold, Chief motioned for Patrick to close it behind them. Izzie took the first seat and slouched down until she was comfortable. Chief Chan’s death glare never wavered from her and Izzie knew the shit storm that was about to happen was meant solely for her.

“Mind telling me why Tokamota is at the hospital with a shattered kneecap and fractured ribs?”

Izzie shrugged her shoulders. Her face blank as marble and eyes just as cold as she replied, “He struggled while I was apprehending him. He busted my face up pretty good.”

For added measure, Izzie pointed at her swollen lip. Chief Chan was unmoved.

“A busted lip doesn’t compare to broken bones, Stark. You know that. You’re skating on very thin ice.” She turned her attention finally to Patrick. He’d stayed quiet, hands folded, as he remained standing next to the door. No doubt eager to run out of the room and away from this situation. “So, Peterson. Is that what happened? Or is there something else you’d like to add in on the report?”

Izzie fought to keep her body from tensing. Her fidgeting coming to a halt as she struggled to keep from looking back at her…partner.

When Izzie exited back out into the alley he’d had a haunted look in his eyes. Unable to meet her eyes, the six foot two giant continued to look at his feet. Already making the call for an ambulance at their location before she’d even asked him too. Even after informing the paramedics and other officers on scene what had taken place, he still wouldn’t look at her. As if looking at her would make him scream just like Yoshi had.

Would he finally crack? Was he just waiting for the right moment to treat this like church and the Chief’s room his confessional? Patrick’s poker face was shit and Izzie imagined he was no doubt squirming under the watchful gaze of their Chief.

“What’s written in the report is what happened. Tokamota was informed that we were both officers and that we just had a few questions. He fled the premises and Detective Stark gave chase. I found them a few minutes later struggling and Detective Stark with a busted lip from the scuffle.”

The Chief listened carefully to each word Patrick gave her. The look of disbelief never left her pretty face once.

“And you’re sure that’s exactly how it happened?”

“Jesus, Chan give it a rest. What are you digging for, anyways?”

“Do you think this is some kind of joke?” Chan shrieked. Her face turning a dark red as irritation spread in her eyes. “Do you see these? These are all complaints. Complaints made solely on you, Stark. I’ve had more than fifty-eight of them since I accepted your transfer. Nobody in this precinct would even partner up with you until Peterson transferred in.”

“And? I told you I didn’t want a partner in the first place!”

“And like I told you that wasn’t your decision to make. I am the goddamn Chief here, Stark. Not you. I thought bringing you in with your arrest record was a good call for my department. That maybe for you a change of scenery would be good. Now you’re becoming more of a problem than you’re worth.”

“My fucking arrest record is better than half of the officers you have here.”

“Piled up with complaints and suspicious behavior. Don’t think you can bullshit me, Stark. I’ve been around a long time and I’ve seen my fair share of good detectives thinking they can skate past the law because of their position. I know Tokamota is linked with Kwang-Sik. I know you were fishing around for information on the men that killed your partner 3 years ago-“

“Don’t talk about Ben like you knew him.”

Her whole body was trembling. She couldn’t get it to stop. That hatred that pumped through her blood and kept her fighting spilling out into her words. She sounded murderous. Izzie always did when people brought up Ben’s death like it was just a casual conversation piece. Well it wasn’t. He wasn’t.

The chief’s features softened; her eyes giving her pity. Izzie hated that look. She didn’t need her pity and she sure as hell didn’t want it.

“Stark. It’s time to let it go.”

“You know what I’m done with this conversation.”

Izzie removed herself from the chair and retreated towards the door. The Chief’s next words stopping her dead in her tracks.

“Then I’m reprimanding you. Six weeks of paid leave.”

“Excuse me?” Izzie turned back to her fuming.

“This was the last straw for the department, Stark. They wanted to cut you lose completely, but I was able to talk them into six weeks of paid leave. If you don’t take this today, right now, you won’t have a badge to come back for.”

The room fell deafly quiet. The only sound she could hear was her heavy breathing and the cold weight of panic that threatened to bubble to the surface. Izzie’s fingers fumbled on the cool metal of her badge tucked into the waist of her jeans. Ever since she was young all she ever wanted to be was a cop. To help defend those who couldn’t defend themselves. After Ben was murdered, Izzie couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually stopped and helped someone. Anyone.

Maybe this would work out for the best. She’d gotten all the information she’d needed from Yoshi. She could infiltrate Kwang-Sik on her own and not have to worry about answering to the department. The law had no business with what she planned on doing, anyways.

With a heavy heart she removed her badge, walked over, and placed it on Chan’s desk.

“Wait, Chief there’s gotta be another way,” Patrick started. Surprising both the women in unison.

Before she made her leave Izzie stopped to look up at him sending him a sad smile.

“It’s okay, Patrick. It’s better this way.”

Without another word Izzie opened the door and walked back out into the quiet of the precinct. She managed to grab a few things off of her desk before she headed out the glass double doors one last time.

* * *

 

After Izzie left the precinct she’d stopped to grab some food. Forty minutes later and here she was, snacking on buldak and looking up at her living room wall.

The five faces she’d studied since that day looked back down at her. As smug as ever. Newspaper clippings and old wrap sheets spread out around them. Creating a perfect circle that centered around the five of them. Izzie studied this wall for the past 3 years. Every piece of little information she could find joining yellowed pieces of aged paper until it felt like she knew them personally.

Yoshi gave her a place and a time where Kwang-Sik and his band of miscreants would be. It was an underground gambling ring. One of the few Kwang-Sik himself owned. Yoshi told her he was selective on who was let in and even more selective of the women he let around him. All that told Izzie was that she just needed a good plan to show her worth; something that made her valuable. Looking up into the face of Kwon Jiyong, Izzie planned to do just that.

 

* * *

 

It was another restless night of flipping through channels. The girls he’d taken up with him to bed out of boredom hours ago were passed out. Worn out from his insatiable appetite for sex and booze. One of them was asleep and cuddled against his side. It was easy enough to ignore her. She wasn’t even fun to begin with. Now all he could do was wonder if he should just leave before either of them woke up.

Jiyong flipped through another series of channels. Finally stopping on an old film; a man holding his lover tightly to his chest. Husky words of love and denial filtering through the television set as he took a heavy swig from his whiskey bottle.

His Lee Yun used to love old films. Jiyong could feel her, like she was still with him, curled up beside him like the whore next to him. Except she always smelt like honeysuckle; not like cheap perfume and booze. Her lips tasting like cinnamon; sweet and crisp.

_I love you. I need you._

He jolted up from bed. His mind racing as his startled expression searched the room. It sounded just like her. But that wasn’t possible. She was dead and there was no bringing her back.

_Jiyong…I love you._

The screen of the television danced into darkness; white ants erasing the image of the couple. Another image jarred him from his thoughts; an image of a woman. The image of his sweet Lee Yun. But how?

Moving carefully off the bed, he positioned himself in front of the television. Slapping at its sides to get the picture back.

_I need you. Save me._

Her image cut back across the screen and his body jumped back. No, no. He was drunk. This shit couldn’t be happening. Drunk or not, the longing to touch her left his fingers numb and his heart weighed down with sadness.

_Jiyong…_

Suddenly, that sadness was replaced with rage. His body erupting in white hot heat as a scream tore free from his lips. The girls on the bed scrambled awake. Fear lighting up their eyes as they watched on in horror as he picked up the television and launched it through the seven story window.

Jiyong tore the room apart; just as his emotions did the same inside him. He couldn’t have saved her. But he could have. He always knew that having anything in this life, anything good like her, was dangerous. He was supposed to know every variable; calculating all the outcomes. He couldn’t calculate the outcome of showing mercy and leaving one man alive. Jiyong couldn’t see his error of not killing him then until it was too late, and he had taken his revenge and killed the only good thing Jiyong ever truly loved in this life.

And just like that, Jiyong could feel the tides turning. Something was coming. A flash of remembrance of eyes filled with hatred and a thirst for vengeance called out to him in warning. Another mistake. Another mess with someone he loved ending up being the victim.

He was supposed to calculate all the variables. Even the ones he couldn’t see.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I hope that you guys enjoyed this! I'm dying to know what you are thinking!

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to know if any of you are digging this! I honestly enjoy writing it and have a lot of ideas for it. Relationship wise, I'm not sure if I want to do that with this story or just go with the flow. Anyways, thank you so much for reading!!!!


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